Please
by amor-remanet
Summary: Oneshot. Sirius has feelings for Remus, but thinks that he's Voldemort's spy. And Firewhiskey doesn't help solve anything. SLASH, SBRL. Feedback welcome.


**Disclaimer: **Most regrettably, the pups are not mine; if they were, things would have wound up differently. Either way, I'll put them back when I'm done playing with them, promise. Written for the prompt, "Swords; Post-Hogwarts, Pre-Azkaban" at Livejournal's **Tell Me A Kiss** Sirius/Remus fic challenge.

Sirius knows that Remus is the traitor, but the Firewhiskey doesn't care. The Firewhiskey doesn't see the same Remus that he does – the turncoat pretending to read _Beowulf_ in the ratty, second-hand armchair; the intellectual who still handed over the people who love him and give him hand-knit jumpers for Christmas, just like they're some pig on a platter. It only sees that he looks beautiful in the window-filtered dusk light. Despite their present disagreement, Sirius throws back another drink, Summons the bottle, and pours another. He gets close to glaring when Remus gives him a disapproving stare.

Lily and James should move…_immediately_. They're the most at-risk of the group, and Remus is the most effective one, so Voldemort probably knows where they are, and, if the enemy knows where you are, Don't Fucking Be _There_. Be anywhere _but_ there. And Harry…Merlin, he makes it that much more important. If anything happens to Lily and James, Sirius gets Harry (unless Dumbledore has something to say about it, and he invariable does), and…he doubts himself infrequently, but here it's deserved. He doesn't know the first thing about taking care of kids, and how could he even think to be a father figure for Harry with the knowledge that Remus – the Remus he loves – is why the boy has no parents?

AGAIN! The Firewhiskey brings him back to Remus! Fucking…why does it always have to do that? And it puts him into some light other than traitor, and it makes Sirius notice the things he usually keeps himself from seeing. Like the way the last rays of sunlight play shadows on the inward curve of his neck; the way he lets his hair get in the way of his reading, only brushing it aside when it gets to be intolerable; and the way his mouth is open ever so slightly, pleading to breathe because he has a cold and hasn't had a Pepper Up Potion yet…no. He can't be the traitor, he…he just _can't_. Someone this beautiful is not allowed to be a bloody spy!

But then…Sirius made the potion up for him special, since they're flatmates, and he's ill, and he's always been shite at potions…and he said he _forgot_. Just another thing to add to the long list of King Remus of the Bad Excuses. What he _meant_ was different, just like how he used to _say_ he was going to visit some sick relative when he was really up in the Shrieking Shack, turning into a psychotic wolf beast and wouldn't even let his friends help him. It's always going to be like this, isn't it? He's never going to mean what he says, ever. This time what he meant was that he knows that Sirius knows and can't trust his friend to make him a simple potion anymore. Who knows? Maybe there's silver in it.

Damn it! Haven't they grown up yet? Aren't they supposed to be _past_ this fucking _deception_ already? James and Lily are parents, and he and Remus have both held jobs for more than a month, and Merlin only knows what Peter's doing, but no one ever expected him to grow up in the first place. But…how _much_ does Remus know? Just that Sirius has worked out his lying, two-faced trickery, or that he only got his head and feelings straight in time for it to be too late? And now Remus is punishing him for it. Isn't it punishment _enough_ that he had to admit to a bloody bird that, after two hours of waiting for him to get it the fuck together, she's not getting laid because he _just_ figured out that he's bloody queer? It's not sufficient that he spent the night on James and Lily's sofa, played the good godfather so Lily could sleep, and then had to tell them, over breakfast (which, for him, consisted of tea because he didn't think he could keep anything else down), that he had to encroach on their hospitality because he's gayer than a Cornish Pixie and didn't feel like going home?

Or is it bigger than just shoving his face in his own sexuality? Is Remus still making him repent for The Prank? But he _did_ that already. He said "sorry" and left presents and wrote goddamn bloody poetry _every day for three months_.

But…that has to be it, only now it's later than too late. Now, there's _really_ nothing he can do, except lay down and wait to die, of course, betrayed by the only person he'd spend more than a week with. Forever is a long time, but that's how long he wants Remus for…and Remus is too busy making him suffer for it to care. Typical. What a way to love.

_But_, the Firewhiskey reminds him, _you're a bloody fucking Gryffindor. Gryffindors don't just roll over for fate; they go _do_ something_.

And, even brooding, he has to admit: it has a point and a good one too. But Remus is a traitor. He's sold them all out to the Death Eaters, and he doesn't give a shit…he doesn't even deserve to be Moony anymore.

_But everyone can be saved, right…Death Eaters and Malfoys excluded?_

Well, yes, but-

_So do something_.

But he _is_ a Death Eater.

_You saw his arms the other night: no Dark Mark._

But, I…he-

_He's a Dark Creature, right…but he was your friend, flatmate, and secret crush first_.

He's been a werewolf since he was a kid.

_So_?

There's nothing I can do.

_Sure there is_.

Like what?

_Show him_.

Show him what?

_That you love him, you great, stupid git. Get off your arse, go over there, and bloody kiss him_.

What if it doesn't work? What if he hates me for it? What if something happens sooner and it's my fault?

_Then, and _only_ then, you can complain_.

Damn it all to High Hell: the Firewhiskey is completely right, and it's moving his body for him. He leaves the sofa and crosses to Remus; he's kneeling before he knows it. And, without any warning, he forces Remus' book down and his mouth clashes with Remus' like two swords. One is wet and open, eager, desperate even…flailing and begging the other to come around; the Other is closed, only coaxed open (and, at that, begrudgingly), and it's not just a little surprised. The kiss itself is messy and clinging and so mechanical that Remus' tongue might have Summoned Sirius', a move which it now regrets, in retrospect.

And Remus pushes him away, blushing redder than Lily's hair and the bloody disgusting, wholly ugly rug. Both sets of eyes grow wide, and both are probably in shock…different kinds of shock, yes, but shock, awe, and abject horror nonetheless. Remus huffs, purses his lips, and looks away…is it _really_ too late then? Is he too far gone for Sirius to save him? The thought makes Sirius lurch forward and hug him around the shoulders. They've hugged before; aside from this new context, it's an old procedure. And all Sirius can think with his head to Remus' chest and his hands holding fast to the tense muscles in Remus' back, is that he doesn't _want_ it to be too late. He wants to believe that it's not over and everything can still be okay the way it used to…but he can't.

And, finally, the Firewhiskey agrees with him, forcing him to whimper out of spite.

"Sirius…the hell?"

"_Moony_," he whispers, hopeless and frantically shaking. "_Please_…"


End file.
